True, thou art brave!—o’er all the busy land
In patriot ranks embattled myriads stand;
Thy foes behold with impotent amaze
And drop the lifted weapon as they gaze
But what avails to guard each outward part,
If subtlest poison, circling at thy heart,
Spite of thy courage, of thy pow’r, and wealth,
370
Mine the sound fabric of thy vital health?